Page 6 of His Lost Mate

“Not anymore. I’m a partner with my best friend, Amelia, in a charter and cargo flight company, Midnight Sun Flight Services. We fly people from the lower forty-eight up to Alaska, where she lives with a man she fell in love with. When my former Air Force CO asked for my help, I didn’t feel like I could refuse.”

Jonah’s gaze didn’t waver. “And almost got you killed. So, the flight computer is what you were hiding.”

Her lips tightened. “That’s none of your business.”

“Wrong.” He stood, towering over her, his presence as commanding as his voice. “It became my business the second I found you bleeding and half-dead in the middle of nowhere.” Phoebe’s temper flared, but before she could respond, he squatted down again, his eyes level with hers. “If we’re going to get out of this alive, I need to know what we’re dealing with.”

She hesitated, the sheer force of his presence unsettling her. The sunlight seemed to reflect in his eyes, and she found herself unable to look away. There was something in his gaze—an intensity, a rawness—that both unnerved and drew her in.

Finally, she exhaled. “The Ghosthawk project is supposed to be one of the most secure operations in the military.”

“And yet you’re telling me…”

Phoebe took a deep breath, trying to rein in her temper. “I don’t have much choice, do I? I’m a pilot, not a survivalist. I’m injured. I’m going to need your help to report back and get the flight computer to the Air Force. Whoever sabotaged the plane had to have inside access. That means whoever’s coming isn’t some random hit squad.”

Jonah’s expression didn’t change, but the air around him seemed to become more intense. “They’ll track the wreckage first,” he said, standing and packing away the medical supplies.“We need to move. Thankfully, it snowed overnight—that’ll help hide our tracks.”

Phoebe nodded, grateful for the shift in focus. She tried to push herself upright again, and this time Jonah offered her his hand. She hesitated, her pride warring with practicality, but eventually she took it. His grip was firm, warm, and far too steadying for her liking.

As they began moving, Phoebe’s mind churned with questions. Jonah’s composure was unsettling. No ordinary person would react to her story with such calm acceptance. And the way he moved through the forest—silent, deliberate, and completely in control—hinted at a history she couldn’t yet piece together.

“You’re awfully well-prepared for a wilderness guide,” she said, her voice low but probing.

Jonah glanced back at her, his lips twitching into a faint grin. “I don’t recall telling you I was a wilderness guide, and you’re awfully curious for someone who isn’t telling the whole truth.”

Phoebe bristled. “I’ve told you enough.”

“Not if it’s going to get us killed,” he shot back, his tone strident but measured.

She glared at him but said nothing, feeling both irritation and something she refused to name in equal measure. Jonah Locke was infuriating, mysterious, and far too competent for her peace of mind. Yet despite all that, she felt safer with him than she had any right to.

It was a problem. One she’d deal with later—assuming they survived.

The forest closed in around them, dense and silent save for the scrambling she did on the uneven ground. He moved like a predator—quiet and with purpose. Phoebe shivered, though whether from the cold or Jonah’s presence beside her, she couldn’t say.

“Stay close,” Jonah said over his shoulder, his tone more command than suggestion.

“I’m not planning to wander off,” Phoebe replied, scowling as her ribs protested each step. “Believe me, I’ve had enough near-death experiences to last me a while.”

Jonah’s silence was loaded with a skepticism that made her chest feel restricted. He didn’t trust her, and she couldn’t entirely blame him. After all, she didn’t trust him completely either. She was a stranger who had crash-landed in what he seemed to think of as his territory with more questions than answers—and the answers she did have were deadly. She didn’t have a choice, not now. He was her best chance of staying alive.

“Let me guess,” Jonah said after a long stretch of silence. “You’re trying to figure out who’s responsible for downing your plane.”

Phoebe blinked, startled by his accuracy. “Something like that.”

“Well, you’re not subtle,” he added, his voice cutting through the air like a knife. “You’ve got that look. Distracted. Calculating.”

Phoebe quickened her pace to match his long strides, annoyance bubbling to the surface. “You don’t know anything about me.”

Jonah stopped abruptly, turning to face her. The sheer force of his presence, his broad frame blocking her path, sent a ripple of apprehension through her. “I know you’ve got something worth killing for,” he said evenly. “And I know you’re not telling me everything.”

Phoebe could feel her body tighten, heat rising to her cheeks. “Right, because you’ve been such an open book.”

His jaw tightened, and she thought she’d struck a nerve. “This isn’t about me,” he said, his voice low and steady.

She bristled. The orders she’d been given told her to shut him out, but those same orders had almost gotten her killed. On the other hand, she realized he was right. He was in effect risking his life for hers. If they were going to get out of this alive, she needed his help—and that meant giving him more than half-truths.

“I was flying a test mission,” she admitted, her tone clipped. “Classified project. The Ghosthawk. Someone sabotaged it, and now they’re after me because they think I have the flight computer.”

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